152
The Sun kept stooping—stooping—low!
The Hills to meet him rose!
On his side, what Transaction!
On their side, what Repose!
Deeper and deeper grew the stain
Upon the window pane—
Thicker and thicker stood the feet
Until the Tyrian
Was crowded dense with Armies—
So gay, so Brigadier—
That I felt martial stirrings
Who once the Cockade wore—
Charged from my chimney corner—
But Nobody was there!
Back to Emily Dickinson
Get a free collection of Classic Poetry ↓
To be able to leave a comment here you must be registered. Log in or Sign up.